And Another Sociopath Makes Three!
by Child Of Old
Summary: What happens when somebody, cleverer then Sherlock, moves in with him with a deadly seceret? What happens when She's Irene's sister? What happens when both SHerlock and John start to fall in love with her?
1. Irene swings a homerun

_Chapter One:_

Irene seemed perfectly relaxed, sitting with her legs kicked up over the arm of the chair whilst her back lent against the opposite side. She wore a coat, a black, coat, nothing more except for those black slip on shoes which I'd found necessary to point out to her since we were walking. Of course she'd just wear the coat with nothing under it because she was Irene; Irene did these things because she was Irene. But this was different, this was The Coat, this was _his _coat. Irene had deemed it suitable to wear here.  
>"It's a story between Mr Holmes and me." Irene had told me as we'd left the squander we'd now been reduced to living in.<br>I'd rolled my eyes, grinning slightly.  
>"Please. Spare me the details. I already know them."<br>Dr John Watson had seemed surprised when Irene had turned up on the door, probably because she was suppose to be dead but as Irene always said, what was death between friends?  
>He was now serving us coffee, a nasty type of coffee but coffee all the same. I'd been cooped up for a while, I needed to do this.<br>_Electric shaver, not shaven in a couple of days. _I couldn't help it, it was an automatic analysis. _Coffee spilt on the opening of his jumper and just slopped liberally down his front, wasn't paying attention, to Sherlock? No, that's a ladies perfume I smell. A date then? No, he'd be self assured if it was a date, most army men were, and from what I'd heard about John Watson he certainly was then. A crush then? Yes, recent coffee stains on the chair say the meeting was right here, today, but nobody comes here by the own choice so the lady in question must be interested in Sherlock. John does not know this yet, believing her to be interested in him. Poor bloke._

"So, when's Sherlock getting here?" Irene asked John pleasantly, perfectly at ease even as her eyes shifted restlessly to me every few seconds to check I was ok. I gave her a reassuring nod.  
>John shrugged.<br>"Not entirely sure. He's with Mrs Hudson."  
>"You're supposed to be dead." Came a flat, unemotional voice as Sherlock banged open the door and saw Irene sitting there in his coat.<br>"Darling, you know I'm not dead. Have dinner with me?" She fluttered her eyelashes at him temptingly.  
>"Not a chance. And <em>he <em>doesn't know you're alive."  
>"Well, he does now." Irene laughed.<br>Sherlock pursed his lips.  
>"Stupid woman with an inferior mind." I thought I heard him mutter.<br>Time to bring in the big guns, I though.  
>"Yes, that can be quite tiresome can't it?" I smiled sweetly at him as he raised his eyes to me. "Imagine me, living between her and three other stupid brothers, honestly, it was hell on earth. At least Irene bothered to try and catch up with me."<br>Sherlock's eyes shifted to Irene, who shrugged.  
>"I did, though she still says she finds be tiresomely boring."<br>John snorted.  
>"He says that to me all the time." John told us, jerking a thumb at Sherlock. Sherlock cut his eyes to him and glared but didn't say anything.<br>"Who's she?" He asked instead.  
>"Don't you know?" I batted my eyelashes innocently.<br>"Miss Adler."  
>I shook my head, staring at him from across the room.<br>"Wrong. You looked at the label at the back of my jacket, good guess but not quite right. You presumed the tightness around the arms was because I wanted to keep up the vague delusion that I was slim, but that's not right either. I borrowed a jacket off Irene, see, just to see how good you are. Obviously not _that_ good."  
>John gaped at me whilst Sherlock silently looked at me.<br>"Half sister of Irene then, not full sister."  
>I inclined my head.<br>"Good guess."  
>"You look like her."<br>"Now that's a lie."  
>"Ten years younger than her."<br>"Make that seven."  
>"Support her through thick and thin? Admire her."<br>"Yes, but do look down on her academic skills. So boring."  
>"So, what, half on your mothers side?"<br>"Yes."  
>"And three brothers on your fathers."<br>"So clever of you."  
>"Boyfriend you're deeply involved with?"<br>"Not that deeply. He still doesn't know my real name."  
>"But you like to pretend that you are."<br>"It brings him and his brothers back to me, and therefore back to Irene."  
>"So, they've got high power jobs."<br>"Now, that would be telling."  
>"Why? Do you bed them? Is that why they keep coming back to you?"<br>"No."  
>"Virgin."<br>"It's the best thing to be."  
>"At twenty."<br>"You're twenty eight."  
>"I'm not a virgin."<br>"A blow job in university does not count, Sherlock."  
>Irene glanced across our verbal battle to grin at John's astounded face.<br>"Looks like we've both got one, doesn't it?" She grinned.  
>John nodded, glancing between us like he was watching a tennis match.<br>"Maybe we should meet up later and swap notes." Irene giggled. "It'd save us a lot of time."  
>At that, John chuckled half heartedly.<br>"That was interesting. You are like me. But with a lower intellect."  
>"A higher one, actually, and you have the social skills of gnat."<br>"And how do I know you don't?"  
>"I'm related to Irene."<br>"You're bigger then her."  
>"Fatter, actually, but it does look like you've got at least some tact."<br>"Don't hold your breath." John coughed and we both glanced at him.  
>"Well, that was fun. But now i find your presence here boring. Please leave."<br>Sherlock started to stride away when Irene called out to him.  
>"She is like you, Sherlock. My baby sister. You never asked her name."<br>"I don't need to know it."  
>"It's Kathleen Arcile."<br>"Why would I want to know this?"  
>"Because she knows a lot of things, Sherlock. Things she shouldn't know. A lot of people are after her."<br>"Then make her vanish. You've done it enough times."  
>"But now she needs proper protection."<br>"What do I have to do about this?"  
>Irene smiled hugely.<br>"Nothing at all. She's just going to live with you."


	2. And the bomb drops

Chapter 2:

The banging on the door would not _stop_. It wasn't John. John was way too polite and he'd already had a shower that morning. So I continued with my shower.

"I realize women are supposed to take ages in the bathroom but could you _try _and not be so boring as to conform to stereotypes of your own gender which is frankly degrading?" Sherlock shouted through the door.

I grinned, switched off the shower and stepped out.

"Could _you_ try and be less insulting, despite the fact I realize that _you_ think that you will eventually end up alone or gay so you feel no need to actually be polite about women?"

I wrapped myself in a towel and opened the door to find a very naked Sherlock standing outside the door, one arm braced against the wall.

I pretended to shield my eyes.

"And your clothes?"

"Why do I need clothes? I'm going for a shower."

"Your dick is not that impressive."

"You are crude and frankly just naive. My testicles are amazing."

"Who's told you that?"

"Your own sister."

I sighed.

"I keep telling her that she should wear her glasses but, alas, she refuses to do so."

Sherlock grumped at me.

"Let me into the bathroom."

"Why? You had one last night."

"Since then I have had to touch you. Let me assure you that a shower is completely necessary."

I sighed and stepped to one side, allowing him entrance. He passed without a word.

I went into my own room (Johns) and proceeded to towel dry my hair.

John knocked on the door when I had just pulled on my jeans.

"Can I come in?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, feel free. It is your room after all."

He came in.

"Irene just called. She wants to know if you're alright."

I frowned.

"Of course I'm alright. Why wouldn't I be?"

"She worries about you. And Sherlock. She says she doesn't want you anywhere near him."

I chucked an unused cigarette out the window.

"Irene's an old worry guts."

"She never seemed like that when I've met her."

"That's because then I wasn't her responsibility."

"And you are now?"

I smiled sweetly at his naivety.

"No. Now I'm _his_." I jerked my head at Sherlock, who had paused outside the doorway to listen in to our conversation.

"You are not my responsibility!" He flared up. "I am not related to you-"

"Thank god." I muttered.

"Nor am I your guardian."

"Who says I need a guardian? I just need protecting."

John gave me a small smile, shoving Sherlock out of the doorway.

"If you can protect yourself from Sherlock, I think you can protect yourself from anybody."

I smiled, pleased, at him as I started to leave the room.

"Aw, Sherlock's just a pussy cat compared to the people who are trying to kill me, aren't you?" I teased ruffling his hair.

"I resent that." Sherlock muttered as he followed me into the sitting room.

"Wait." John followed us. "People are trying to _kill_ you?"

I blinked up at him.

"Yes. Didn't you know? Shame. I was sure Irene would've told you."

I tapped my pencil irritated against the coffee table as Sherlock opened the news paper.

"Well, she didn't." John was getting hysterical now. "Wouldn't the best place for you to be in the witness protection?"

I gave him a sarcastic smile.

"Not _really _since they are one of the groups of people who are trying to kill me."

"Why are they trying to kill you?"

I waved my hand about airily.

"I forget. I think _they _want to kill me because I may have accidentally hacked into their systems and sentenced a murderer to death as opposed to having him put under witness protection."

John's eyes almost bugged out.

"You did _what_? How the hell did you do that? Isn't the death penalty illegal in this country?"

I gave him a pitying look.

"Do you really believe that?"

John turned to stare at Sherlock in amazement.

"Did you know this?"

"Yes." Sherlock turned the page of the news paper lazily.

"And you didn't _say _anything?"

"It must've slipped my mind." He then glanced at me. "Good work by the way. But to be honest, I wouldn't have bothered. Then Joans would've died instead."

"Yes, he is rather annoying, isn't he?" I agreed.

John stared, mouth wide open, at us when I got up to stare out the window. Sherlock followed me.

"Oh look. He's moving in." I muttered uninterestedly, staring at a man who had a moving van behind him.

Sherlock frowned.

"Not another baker. You'd best keep Mrs Hudson away from him, John; he's got five wives and two mistresses. God knows how he can afford them all, with his salary."

Sherlock started to move away when my hand reached out and caught his arm, my fingers digging deep into his flesh, almost drawing blood. Sherlock, his face blank, looked up at me.

"What?"

He didn't sound particularly interested.

"Other murderers moved in across the road."

"Yes, they do that. Don't worry; I think it's for me. They've been doing it for months now."

Despite everything, his voice was soothing.

"WHAT?" John shouted.

"Oh, do keep up John; we've got five assassins and three murderers living on our road."

I thought John was going to faint.

"Are we going to tell Irene?" He gasped out.

Sherlock and I looked at each other.

"No." Sherlock then said decisively. "There is something I need Kathleen to do."

I grinned back at him.

"I'm on it." I agreed.

We turned out backs on the window, starting to walk towards the chair.

"Oh, John?" Sherlock started casually, starting to sit down.

"What now?" He asked irritably.

"There's a bomb on the window. You may want to duck." I continued just as calmly before I suddenly found myself on the floor, Sherlock's body covering mine as John flung himself to the floor.

The explosion wasn't as big as I'd hoped it would be.


End file.
